


heart inside of mine

by saintberry



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintberry/pseuds/saintberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d left. Without a word or a glance, he’d left her, disappearing into thin air, into another universe.</p>
<p>And yet here he is. Next to her.</p>
<p>OR Rose and Tentoo's first confusing hours together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart inside of mine

**Author's Note:**

> my first proper doctor who fic! follow my dw blog @dctrose on tumblr, holla

For the first time, Rose realises how damn  _inconvenient_  Norwayis.

Her heart aches just being back. She’d fallen apart here only a few years earlier, clutching the sand, her mum’s cardigan, nails digging into her own palms – anything to provide her with a purchase and ease the dizzying sensation overtaking her whole body. It hadn’t helped, any of it – she’d been lightheaded and dazed as Pete and Mickey wrapped her up and drove her away. But at least she could barely remember the journey back.

On a more practical level, last time was easier. More painful, infinitely more painful, but they’d had Pete’s car, old and rattling but familiar. Now they’re stuck on a beach, the tide slowly washing in, and all they can do is wait for Pete’s phone to find them a taxi. It’s forty minutes before it arrives, forty minutes Rose spends craning her neck back to look at the spot where the TARDIS disappeared, but then she’s bundled into the back seat between her mum and … _him,_ and Bad Wolf Bay disappears with a strange sense of finality.

Because she doesn’t know who he is, not really. He looks like the Doctor. His hand, clasped in hers, feels like the Doctor’s. His voice, whispering those words,  _finally_ those words, sounded like the Doctor’s.

But he’d left. Without a word or a glance, he’d left her, disappearing into thin air, into another universe.

And yet here he is. Next to her.

Of all the incredible alien things she’s seen, the world’s she’s visited, the species she’s met – this is the weirdest. The Doctor, domesticated. One heart and one life. While the real one – the first one – goes on alone. Missing her, needing her. Or maybe not. He has forever to move on, after all. She knows she wasn’t the first, and it feels naïve to assume she’ll be the last.

The Doctor – her one – is staring out of the window, eyes narrowed, forehead creased. It’s not his thinking face, Rose knows that. It’s reflection she’s seeing written on his features. Recalling, remembering, not devising and discovering. She wonders what it is he’s thinking about. He’s got nine hundred years of memories, after all. All floating around a brand new body.

Her head snaps to the right when she realises her mum is talking to her, saying her name, squeezing her thigh.

“You’ll stay at the mansion with us for a few days, yeah? Quality time with your dad and Tony and I.”

She knows what her mum is offering her. A few days to decide, to work out how their lives fit together.

“Yeah, sounds good.” She nods, before turning slowly to her left. “Doctor?”

He jolts out of his thoughts, sharp eyes turning to look at them, and Rose knows he wasn’t listening. Though him tuning out her mother isn’t exactly unusual.

“A few days at mum and dad’s place. They’ve got staff – could wait on you hand and foot.” She tries a smile, and his hand squeezing hers is the best response she could ask for.

“Yes, yes – sounds good. Thank you.”

The Doctor – the Time Lord Doctor – was right. Looking at him, there’s a tenseness, a shadow in his eyes, that reminds Rose of the first him she’d met. And it hurts, looking at him – remembering what he’s been through, the battles he’s fought, the sacrifices he’s made. Tears sting in her eyes, and by instinct, she lifts his arm, burrowing into his side.

Compassionate as ever. She’d asked him one day, back before they’d ever stepped foot in a parallel world, why her. Compassion, he’d said. In the face of her own agony, her own struggles, she still had time for compassion.

“You’re Rose Tyler,” he’d said. “And you care.”

Surprise flickers over the Doctor’s face at Rose’s move, but he makes no words of complaint. Instead, he turns his head, lips brushing the top of her head and eyes falling shut. A smile – a sad, confused smile – tugs at Rose’s lips, and they stay like that for the rest of the drive, settling down together again once they reach a zeppelin to take them back to England. Hands entwined, her head resting against his shoulder. He feels the same – all bony and lanky – and smells the same – a strange, musky lavender scent, for a reason she’s never understood – and that’s good enough for now.

Things get tricky again when they arrive at the mansion. Jackie’s the first one to address it – never one for subtlety. She’s ushering Rose inside, calling out Tony’s name, when she stops for a moment, eyes on the Doctor.

“Are you gunna sleep in her room, then? I want no hanky panky under my roof, three years apart or not. Just remember, her father’s only a few doors down, and her baby brother only another door beyond that.”

“Oh, I – uhm, well –” The Doctor stumbles over his words, chewing on his lip, a mild look of panic on his face. “I was – just gunna…” His hand comes up to the back of his neck, scratching awkwardly. “Whatever Rose wants,” he says finally, and Rose notices a redness on cheeks that makes her smile genuinely for the first time in too many hours.

“He can bunk with me. Don’t worry, we’ll leave the door open.” That cheekiness is back in her voice, and the Doctor doesn’t question when Rose grabs his hand, tugging him towards her. “Come on, I’ll show you to my honorary room.”

She pulls him down a corridor, all marble floors and fancy paintings on the walls. Once they’re out of earshot of her mother, she rounds on him, that smile still in place.

“Are you blushin’?”

It’s not the question the Doctor expects, and he hesitates for a moment, spluttering out a few words before settling on a very unconvincing, “no.”

“One heart, right?” She lays a hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat jump beneath her fingertips. “No more of your superior physiology rubbish. You’re gunna need a good eight hours’ kip, you’re gunna be victim to the common cold, and best of all, you can blush.”

“I get the feeling my teasing is going to come back to haunt me.” He smiles, and she matches it. The light is starting to come back to her eyes, and for a few moments, she forgets that it’s not him. And then she remembers that it is, and all that confusion is back again. “My room’s this way.” She mumbles it and tugs on his hand again, and suddenly their smiles are dropped and it’s weird again.

She guides him up a back staircase onto the first floor, into the first room on the left. It’s simple – it’s a spare bedroom, after all, but one reserved for her – with a double bed, neat furniture, and a nice view over the landscaped gardens. They’re slightly ruined by the way Tony’s toys are scattered over them, though nothing offends Rose more than finding out the Little Tikes toy car is mint green and purple in this universe.

The Doctor feels Rose’s eyes on him as he takes in the mansion’s grounds, and turns round to face her after a few moments. She’s glancing over him appraisingly, her tongue trapped between her teeth.

“You’re going to need new clothes. You can’t wear that forever.”

“I can’t?” He twists his body, taking in his outfit from as many angles as possible. “I think I look good in blue.”

“I was thinkin’ about the smell more than the look.” Rose wrinkles her nose. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow. Tonight… I don’t think it’ll fit well, but you can borrow some of Dad’s stuff. Or sleep in your pants. As long as you don’t get cold.”

That isn’t his main concern with sleeping in just his pants, but he lets the elephant stay caged in the room.

“Mum and Dad eat at seven. Dunno if you’re hungry, but you know me. All that savin’ the world, works up an appetite.”

“Ooh, I know. You and your chips. A post-world saving treat. Don’t have to count the calories when it’s a chip for every few thousand people you’ve saved.”

He smiles – that cheeky, adventurous, ‘ _I’m funny_ ’ smile – and Rose can’t help but smile back. She stares at him for a few moments, and then she steps forward, closing the gap between them and throwing her arms around him. By instinct, his arms come around her, holding her close to him. Rose nuzzles into his shoulder, the weight of their most recent adventure hitting her.

“It’s really you,” she whispers, her nails scraping his neck as she pulls him closer.

“It’s really me, Rose Tyler. Only difference is that you don’t have to share me with the universe. One life, and it’s all yours.”

They stay there, arms around each other, time forgotten for a while. When Rose pulls back, she feels cold, but she takes his hands and pulls him towards the bed, sitting down with his hands still clasped in hers.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone. Donna, and Martha. People are good for you.”

She’d been worried before that she was going to be forgotten. He’d already lived nine hundred years – their short time together seemed nothing in comparison. But the look on Martha’s face, the shock and disbelief, the incredulous, “ _he found you_.”. She’d worried for nothing, in the end.

“That’s my problem. Far too attached to humans. There’s just something about you – you’ve got so much  _spunk._ ”

She laughs, but it feels strange. They’ve been to hell and back, jumped across space and into different dimensions, and she’d stood and watched the man she loved walk away with him still somehow by her side. But laughing is good – the best medicine, they always say.

She leans into his shoulder again, and his arm comes around her, squeezing her into his side. They’ve always had this undercurrent to their relationship – ‘oh, she knows’ – and it feels strange to have finally recognised it. They’ve kissed before – once or twice, out of desperation, sorrow, or pure, overwhelming love, but that was with the other him. The him who had to give up everything to give it all to her. It feels final now – like the forever she’s always wanted.

Seven o’clock rolls around, and they head downstairs, hand in hand. Rose swings their hands, feeling more comfortable, because it’s  _him_ and he’s hers.

“Did I tell you? No  _Eastenders_ in this world. Still got  _Corrie_ , though.”

“No  _Eastenders_?! There go half my references. What about  _Home And Away?_ ”

“Still got that.”

“ _Home And Away_ but no  _Eastenders._ ” The Doctor shakes his head, scandalized. “Imagine that. Terrible. Might as well go throw myself in the void.”

Rose rolls her eyes, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

“Loads of stuff’s weird over here. But it’s cool. Lots to explore.” She bites her lip for a moment, trying her best to act casual. “I thought we could do that, maybe. I’ve saved up from working for Torchwood, so we could travel for a bit. You wouldn’t have to get a mortgage for, oh, a year or two.”

The Doctor stops in his tracks, facing Rose with a soft smile on his face. It widens after a moment.

“The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in… a plane, maybe. Travelling.”

“Like it should be.”

His smile grows, and then he’s leaning down, halfway, waiting for her. It only takes her a heartbeat to decide to meet him, stretching onto her tiptoes as their lips press together. Sparks flash through her, skin tingling and pulse racing, and she presses closer, arms wrapping around the Doctor’s neck as his fingers dig into her waist.

She’s exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. She knows the next few weeks and months are going to be weird, both her and the Doctor – this new Doctor – finding out who they are, together and apart. But she found him. He’s here, and hers, and that’s the most important thing in the world. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, like it should be.

It’s the perfect moment, and the perfect start –

Until they’re interrupted by a bustling behind them, and a voice breaking into their bubble.

“Oi! What’d I tell you about no hanky panky, eh?”


End file.
